


just us, playing with our mouths together

by erythea



Category: Fate/EXTRA CCC - Fandom, Fate/Grand Order, Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, idk they're horny, no they don't bang in this one, or do they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:22:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25881259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erythea/pseuds/erythea
Summary: If Kiara and Belial met before 000 happened.The threat is holy and pure. The irony isn’t lost on Belial, but the skies are gold. He doesn’t know how that makes him feel.
Relationships: Belial (Granblue Fantasy)/Sessyoin Kiara
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	just us, playing with our mouths together

**Author's Note:**

> A quick and dirty sketch of something, trying to get a feel for how they'd bounce off each other. Maybe I'll write actual smut when I feel like it, idk.
> 
> Edit: One of these lines was too on the nose. It's changed now.

The threat is holy and pure. The irony isn’t lost on Belial, but the skies are gold. He doesn’t know how that makes him feel. What should he say when Lucilius comes back? Not that he’d allow him to witness this so soon. The Creator is his prey.

Not _hers_.

“This game is thick and juicy, but I’m afraid it is too tough.”

Her voice drips like nectar.

“It bares its fangs like it wants to strip me to the bone, but its eyes are looking elsewhere.” She looks upon him with amber eyes and her saintly smile twists in sick amusement. “Mm, yes. That sort of nourishment, it is very bad for my stomach.”

Belial cackles.

“You want an animal! I like it rough, myself.” With his thumb hooked in one pocket, he walks towards her. He’s in no rush. No one likes it when he comes too soon. “But I think you misunderstand, human. I spent millennia preparing for the main event, and you had the gall to thrust in dry!”

He narrows his eyes at the ring of light above her and sighs in disdain.

“It's not that I don't want to do this, you know. Your roleplay’s just _really_ taking me out of it. Wearing a halo, playing messiah—who are you trying to fool?”

Color paints her cheeks the way Lucilius wants his sky.

“My, I do so have a distaste for boorish men. When a woman desperately tries to hide something, a true gentleman should only ignore it.”

And yet—she smiles.

“But… what is this? I suddenly feel as if your hungry eyes are upon me, and it makes me sweat and tremble in your presence. If you dislike my pretension, should I cast it aside?”

“Now, now. I didn't tell you to stop, did I? It’s adorable. Like a virgin who says they know what they’re doing.”

“Perhaps I know my audience. But yours isn't even watching, is it?”

He shrugs. “Maybe that's just the way I like it.”

She shakes her head. “What a boring, pitiful man. If only someone could relieve you.”

“It's the spice of life, I say.”

“Life? My, my. Is such a life worth living?”

She holds his face and follows the breadth of his shoulders. Her fingertips are as cold as the ocean depths.

“Following your master, liberating your brethren—and for what? There is suffering either way. Oh, this universe can be so cruel. Perhaps you need someone…” Her touch traces down his broad chest. “to show you the right path.”

He takes her by the chin, lips nearly touching lips. Close enough to feel hollow hearts against bare skin.

“You’re just like the others, aren’t you? Suffering this, salvation that. You think you know what I want, but it’s not me you want to please, is it?”

He sees right through her, and she shivers with delight.

“Protecting these skies for the sake of another... Then like a mermaid, disappearing into foam.” she sneers. “You’re a chaste man, Belial.”

Again, he laughs. But this time it is out of, for lack of a better word, embarrassment.

"And you’re a naughty girl, Kiara. Rubbing one out all the time is _such_ a chore, isn't it?”

Her masturbatory rhetoric. Her self-serving purpose.

“But I guess I’m into that.”

Her fingers find themselves over his clothes, inside of them. Inside of her.

“Ah, fallen angel. How shall I savor you? Perhaps it matters not. All paths lead to salvation.”

He palms over the curves of her supple flesh—the forbidden fruit.

“Do what you want, baby. Do what you like.”

Ah, hell.

He’s got a century to spare.


End file.
